


The Protection

by rdm2



Series: My fics for #AMOW Winter Whumperland 2020 [4]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game)
Genre: Beating, Human as gift, M/M, No Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-15
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:06:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28095123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rdm2/pseuds/rdm2
Summary: An unlucky accident leaves Roche in the "care" of an unfamiliar Scoia'teal leader. Fortunately? for him he becomes part of a trade to a much more familiar face.
Relationships: Iorveth/Vernon Roche
Series: My fics for #AMOW Winter Whumperland 2020 [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2053320
Comments: 4
Kudos: 43





	The Protection

**Author's Note:**

> AMOW's Winter Whumperland Day 4 All I Want for Christmas is You: given as gift | gifts from whumper
> 
> Also the two titles for the Scoia'teal leaders came from google translate. Please let me know if they don't make sense.

Stupid, stupid, stupid. He could taste blood in his mouth as he took another blow to the face, this time breaking his nose. Coughing blood out he looked up through swollen eyes at his attacker. A very angry elf stared back at him, his vine tattoo marking him as a member of the Scoia'teal. He always knew one of them would kill him someday, but he would have put money on it being Iorveth, not whoever this was.

He jerked back as he was spat upon, the gob sliding down his face. A snarl dying in his throat. He closed his eyes, it would do no good. He tried to roll with the kick to his stomach, praying to gods he wasn't sure he believed in that they would just grow bored and kill him.

He bit down on a scream as two of them decided his bare ankles would make for a good platform, and perched on top of them, breaking both of them. They were saying something, but he wasn't sure what. 

He also wasn't sure why they bothered with his legs already broken from the fall, it wasn't like he was going anywhere.

He tried to lay as still as he could be. But well, with a, at least bruised, maybe broken, rib, it hurt to breathe. 

Another elf came in the room and grabbed him by his hair dragging gum across the floor. He yelped, tears welling up from the pain. The elf said something to the others who groaned and pouted. 

Maybe this one was going to finish him off or something. Though why he couldn't do that in the cave made no sense to him. Maybe they had an audience planned. A chill ran down his spine, as he prayed his men were still safe.

But instead he was tossed to the ground landing on a set of boots. Wait, he knew those boots. He frowned trying to place them. Then the boot's owner began to talk. Shit Iorveth's boots. Now he was screwed.

"Mhenadur Iorveth." That was the son of a bitch in charge here, he back hurt from his new whip wounds for his belt. 

"Captaen Cathán." Iorveth's voice is cold, and pissed off. Must not like him bleeding on his point, he thought, darkly amused.

"Do we have an agreement?" His head hurt, he hopes he didn't get a concussion from these fucking bastards.

Iorveth chuckled. "And the dh'oine?"

"A gift." A fucking gift, of course.

"Hmmm, very well. You may cross my territory." He bit his tongue, as not to yelp, as he was picked up and slung over Iorveth's shoulder. "Oh, and Cathán? Next time no dh'oine. Not in Saskia's territory."

"Yes Mhenadur Iorveth." Bastard doesn't sound pleased. Guess how much he cared. He felt himself passing out, and hoped Iorveth wouldn't wait for him to wake before, well, but he didn't think he would.  
\-----  
Iorveth stiffened when he saw Cathán dragging his dh'oine out by his hair. He clamped down on his temper, and made ready to finalize the agreement. 

It was a normal practice to offer a gift to whoever's territory you're passing through or other important agreements. The size of the gift was a matter of how highly ranked the recipient was, though that could vary depending on what was available.

He knew that this gift was meant well, a gift of his greatest enemy, however what this young leader didn't understand was that he was implying that he couldn't catch him himself. That was his dh'oine to do with as he pleased. To imply otherwise was a slap in his face.

Roche was thrown onto his boot, and stayed there. He could see him frowning. 

"Mhenadur Iorveth." He met the Captaen's eyes. He tilted his head, seemingly confused at his displeasure.

"Captaen Cathán." He was making it very plain him displeased he was and it was making the other Scoia'teal nervous.

"Do we have an agreement?" Cathán was looking as if he wanted to flee. He shouldn't be as pleased by this as he was.

Iorveth chuckled, and it felt heavy in his throat. "And the dh'oine?"

"A gift."

"Hmmm, very well. You may cross my territory." Catgán began to walk away, but he stopped him with a warning. "Oh, and Cathán? Next time no dh'oine. Not in Saskia's territory."

He gave him a cold upset look, and through gritted teeth "Yes Mhenadur Iorveth."  
\----------  
He woke up to darkness. It took him a moment to figure out why. A cool cloth had been wrapped around his head probably to deal with his black eyes, but why? 

He continued to lay there on his stomach very still, as he could hear the sound of someone humming somewhere in the room. Whoever it was walked over to him and he couldn't contain his gasp as cream covered hands touched the wounds on his back. The person paused, then continued to rub whatever it was into his skin. 

"Can you lift yourself up? This will be abit easier if you can," came Iorveth's voice in, well, certainly the gentlest he'd ever heard it. Still gruff, and firm, but also tired and, fuck he didn't know. 

He laid his head down for a moment then tried to push up. He definitely wouldn't be able to hold it for long, especially with his legs out of commission, but as soon as he was up, Iorveth was wrapping bandages around him. He looked down himself and could see his legs had been splinted, and he wasn't sure why Iorveth was doing this. 

He managed to hold just long enough for him to finish wrapping him. His arms gave out and Iorveth's arms shot around his waist and helped him to slowly lay back down. 

He started when Iorveth's hand touched his shoulder. "May I touch your hair, dh'oine?"

"Sure, why not. Not like this day could get any weirder at this point. Going to tell me why I'm being treated, and not I don't know, being eaten alive by ants?"

Iorveth's hand touched his hair, gently threading his fingers though the strands, lightly scratching his scalp. "Oh." The second hand joined it and it had some of, what he at least thought was, the same cream put on his back. Iorveth slowly worked it into his scalp as he laid there almost purring. 

Too soon Iorveth decided he was done and finished the massage. He also took the blindfold with him. "You can open them, but I would recommend resting as much as possible. 

He managed to reach his hand out blindly and grabbed Iorveth's arm. "Why?" Opening his eyes he was startled to realize they were underground, though for a hiding spot, that was probably a good idea. Across the room from him was a pile of blankets, and a group of nervous Scoia'teal looking back at him laid out upon it. 

Iorveth though was just watching his hand. He could have pulled away at any point, he had no illusions at where his strength currently was, but he didn't. Just watched it for a minute. Then he placed his hand over it and said. "Because you're my dh'oine. Cathán had no place to touch you."

"So you're going to fix me up, then hunt me yourself?" He turned over and sat up, hissing from the pain. Iorveth grasped the hand holding him, so he released it. Except instead of storming off, Iorveth stared intently at him walking back over, before climbing into his lap.

"Wha'?" He barely formed the word before Iorveth was climbing into his lab. He could hear the giggles of the other elves, but all thought of that fled his mind as Iorveth kissed him. 

Iorveth kissed as though it was another of their fights, and so he pushed back kissing him, and when he pulled away for breath, nipping at his lips. He closed his arms around the elf, as they kissed some more. Unfortunately his body decided to remind him that he was still very injured and he pulled away with a wince. 

He looked up into Iorveth's eye. His bandana had slid up a little during their little make-out session, and he could see the bottom of his scar. 

"My dh'oine." Iorveth repeated, then hesitated, "that means mine to kill, yes, but also mine to... not. I claimed your death long ago, so among us I get to decide if you die, or" he looked away, a blush forming on his face, "or if you live. And I want you alive."

Roche leaned forwards and spoke into his ear. The elf shivered at the touch of his breath, and Roche smirked. "I think I can live with that.


End file.
